


Wine and Dine

by ponxne



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ballroom AU, F/M, Fluff, Identity Reveal, Masquerade Party, idk what tags are, jesus christ what am i doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponxne/pseuds/ponxne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette had always dreamed of attending a masquerade party. She definitely imagined herself being whisked away by a handsome boy, twirling and spinning around under a mirrored glass ceiling, illuminated by delicate crystal chandeliers while laughing with joy.</p><p>Many times, Marinette had imagined sneaking away during the early hours of the night, before the sun rose announcing that yes, the night was well and truly over, having a heart to heart with earlier mentioned boy. Maybe she’d even take off his mask and steal away a kiss before the night was over.</p><p>Marinette, however, did not expect to be attending a ball with her partner-in-justice and fellow feline friend, Chat Noir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there was literally no reason i named this wine and dine except for the hamilton lyrics....and the song they appear in is during a ballroom scene SO  
> this is completely self indulgent, i did no research, and i wanted to take a break from my other fic but i just had to do this
> 
> two parter because i wanted to publish this asap ahahah. it was 2am when i finished this so please excuse any thing i havent edited yet
> 
> Edit: bumped the rating up!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Marinette had always dreamed of attending a masquerade party. Every time she went fabric shopping and felt the gorgeous dress fabric run through her fingers, every time Chat Noir called her princess, every time her parents treated her to gourmet desserts, she’d imagined herself in her now current situation. Well, not exactly like this. She’d certainly dreamed about wearing a beautiful gown while a handmaiden made her prim and proper, complete with a bejeweled lace mask fastened to her hair and makeup touch-ups puffed on every five seconds. She definitely imagined herself being whisked away by a handsome boy, twirling and spinning around under a mirrored glass ceiling, illuminated by delicate crystal chandeliers while laughing with joy.

 

Many times, Marinette had imagined sneaking away during the early hours of the night, before the sun rose announcing that yes, the night was well and truly over, having a heart to heart with earlier mentioned boy. Maybe she’d even take off his mask and steal away a kiss before the night was over.

 

Marinette, however, did not expect to be attending a ball with her partner-in-justice and fellow feline friend, Chat Noir. She certainly didn’t expect the mayor to practically force Ladybug and Chat to watch over the ball and be lookouts. Why he begged them to do it, she wasn’t sure. He probably realised his daughter was the cause of the majority of akuma attacks, and he didn’t want the snob ruining his party. She didn’t mind having to attend as Ladybug, but it was extremely awkward.

 

The mayor had assigned her and Chat dressing rooms in his massive hotel complex, and personal assistants to dress them up and do her makeup and hair. She had been transformed while they did her makeup, and it was the strangest sensation ever. It took them _so long_ to work around her mask as precisely as they could, without smudging her mascara and making her cat-eye liner as even as possible. She’d eagerly shoed them away when they tried to help her put her dress on; she’d simply had enough of their fussing and her patience couldn’t last much longer. Besides, she’s look rather ridiculous if she had to wear her Ladybug suit underneath. She just wanted to get out there and socialise already. Even if she was only allowed to keep Chat company. She’d never expected she’d have every single thing done for her, let alone attend an actual ball, so she wanted to get out there and dance the night away already.

 

The makeup artist and stylists did deserve credit, though. They’d done her hair up with loose, delicate braids in a soft bridal style up-do, and adorned her hair with black pearl pins that were only visible when the light reflected off them. She had a simple black pearl necklace fastened around her neck, too. Her makeup was smoky and bold; nothing new, and lipstick was as crimson as her uniform. She must admit, with a soft giggle at her strange thoughts, that she looked rather kiss-worthy right now. Adrien was in close contact with Chloe, wasn’t he? Hopefully she’d get to see him tonight.

 

If Marinette thought her makeup was exquisitely done, then her gown was handsewn by little cherubs and angels themselves. It was red, of course, so gorgeously bright that every guest would be looking twice in her direction. She knew the ball was of a more old fashioned theme, but she didn’t expect her dress to be quite so full. The sleeves were just off her shoulders, tight, with the fabric gathered at her chest with a gentle twist. The skirt was littered with black pearls, the tiny beads increasing in density as they neared her waist and bodice. As Marinette spun the skirt thundered with its weight, the pearls bouncing light off one another and shimmering in the glowing dressing room. Marinette had never imagined a dress as magnificent as this.

 

Her mask was of the same excellent quality; a paper thin black metal mask that swirled and spiralled into intricate designs, with minuscule red gems peppering the strands evenly.  She spent a good while trying to steadily fasten the ribbons and pins correctly into her hair- She could compromise her identity by asking an assistant to do it, as she was un-transformed. Marinette could barely see her shoes, but they probably attained the same level of quality her gown and mask had.

 

It was risky. It was so incredibly risky, Marinette was constantly having doubts about the whole situation. To be completely honest, it was only Chat’s guarantee of fun that compelled her to go. Of course she’d been dreaming of going to a masquerade ball, ever since she was a little child, but she just didn’t expect nor want to do it as her alternate identity. She just wanted to be normal old Marinette, no Ladybug, no identity to keep safe, and no people to feign interest in. She’d had enough of Chloe’s persistent selfie flashes burning her eyes.

 

The heroine didn’t bother even attempting to take in the scenery of the decorated halls; it all rushed by in a blur of florals, warm yellow lights and gold edging on frames as she practically sprinted to the ballroom. Although she felt the part of the princess, her and heels generally did not cooperate. She was perplexed at how Cinderella could run in those _glass heels_. It didn’t matter that they were only short ones, they were _glass_. Hopefully by the end of the night she wouldn’t have lost a precious heel as she made her grand escape. Hopefully she’d meet the beau of the ball and fall sappily in love with him.

 

The towering wooden ballroom doors were opened for her by two attendants, which she thanked gracefully, just before the sight in front her completely and utterly took her breath away. It was _just_ as she had dreamed, all those years ago. She felt like she could illuminate the ballroom with how bright her glowing smile felt inside and outside. She genuinely felt like a princess, turning all heads towards her as she daintily stood atop the stairs. She could almost hear the “ooooh”s as the sound of a booming voice announced her arrival to the ball. Maybe she was too blinded by the beauty of the hall to hear it.

 

Everything was exactly as she had imagined it would be. A kaleidoscope of women in impressive gowns spun around the dance floor, lead by men who were smartly clad in suits, and ornate chairs and tables lined the perimeter for weary guests to relax. Tables featured dozens of macaron towers and finger foods, while waiters zigzagged around the floor offering champagne flutes and oysters. Although Marinette certainly looked the part, she personally felt she just did not fit in at all. It was nice if someone, anyone except Chloe, was here. A quick scan of the room confirmed Adrien wasn’t at the dance, yet, she hoped. Oh well. Chat could keep her company.

 

“My, my, what an incredible party this is!” Marinette was too busy admiring the hall to notice her companion had sleekly strode to her side, and was now gazing over the room as glossy-eyed as she assumed she looked. “But not as incredible as you look, my Lady.” Chat was dressed in a classic black suit, black shirt with a jade green tie done up correctly, she thanked his attendants silently. His mask mimicked hers: metal, intricate, but sharper and with only a few green gems dotting the spirals. In lieu of his transformation, he had ornamental ears similar to his mask decorating his head. It was silly, of course, but appropriate. What’s a cat without its ears?

 

She could hear every step she took, and the whoosh of her dress as she turned to face him was a clear indication for Chat to do the same. The boy quickly looked her in the eyes before he gently lifted her right hand to his lips as he kissed it, carefully, keeping concerned eye contact with her. Usually, she’d push him away, but for tonight she’d play along. Marinette gave a small smile and let him keep the contact for the shortest few seconds more than usual. It was different: every time his delicate kisses had been wind-chapped lips to her suit clad hand. She barely felt the kiss. This kiss however, was his glossed lips to her smooth, unhindered hand. His lips were just the slightest bit warm, she noted.

 

“We should get to work.” Ladybug stated, after he lowered her hand back to her side. She shouldn’t let Marinette get ahead of her. She was specifically hired as Ladybug, and she shouldn’t let the daydreaming schoolgirl side of her take over. Perhaps some day she’d be able to experience a divine ball as that girl, but tonight, and for the rest of the evening, although she wasn’t transformed, she’d have to start acting like Ladybug.

“Right! Of course. Didn’t Sir. Posh-Pants want us to sit at the balcony all night?”

“He did. Just make sure you don’t address him as that in person, kitty.”

“Aha! I can keep my meowth shut.” Chat made a less than graceful start for the staircase, just before Marinette almost forcefully captured and tugged his wrist the other way.

“Ah-ah, Chat. You’re supposed to escort me. Don’t you know how to properly treat your Lady?”

“O-of course I do!” She could hear his breath catch in his throat.  “What kind of trusty sidekick do you take me for?”

“A silly one.” Ladybug let Chat lead her down the stairs, his warmer hand loosely clasping hers as her other hand floated just above the polished marble railing. It took the duo a couple of minutes to make their way to the balcony: they were constantly interrupted by not at all subtle gasps and loud greetings, which they had to raise a hand in welcome and smile awkwardly to. A blue masked man even asked if he could have Chat’s signature. On his _pocket square_. Rich people were ridiculous.

 

The glass doors opened with a little effort from Ladybug as pushed them open fully, a stark breeze rushing through the opening and into the hall. She’d only been in the clustered hall for a few minutes, but the cool, welcoming fresh air made her not want to go back for a long while. Chat had a hand brandishing a champagne flute, as he guided Marinette to stand on the balcony next to him.

“And exactly why do you have that drink?”

“If you’ll notice, my Lady, I haven’t even taken a sip.” Chat replied, before pouring the alcohol into the dank night below them with a sigh. She couldn’t tell if it was a flower bed or pavement; she had no indication of how high up they stood. “I think I’m a bit too young for that.”

“You think?” She didn’t mean it sarcastically, only questioning what he just said. Although she knew he was around her age, this information added a little more to his description.

“....My father is the socialite type, and so am I, I guess. He told me accepting a drink without hesitation was the proper thing to do.”  Marinette let out a small giggle at that. He certainly did not act that classy at all.

“And yet you didn’t know how to escort a lady?”

“Wh-hey! My father must have thought that wasn’t that important to teach me.”

 

Ladybug didn’t reply, instead she took a few strides to walk to the balcony rails. The thing was huge; big enough to hold at least ten couples comfortably. Ornamental vases holding amazing floral arrangements stood next to each door, and between the corners of the railing and the building. Fancy light fixtures sat just near the doors, bathing the two in the artificial warm light of a fire. The floor had Victorian style patterns, and the balcony was solid marble, held up by golden posts. It was just too bad she had to spent the night watching a bunch of rich upperclassmen dance and drink and laugh merrily, while she was outside with Chat.

 

Well, Chat Noir wasn’t all that bad. She’d rather his company over anyone else, but she wished she could be there with Alya, too. Over the years they spent saving people, fighting akuma and patrolling the city rooftops at night, she knew him as more than just her crime fighting companion. He was her friend, and she didn’t hate to admit that. He’d protected and saved her multiple times from akuma attacks, which she thanked him for, but she didn’t want him to keep saving her with his life on the line.

 

It was hard not to care about the cat, after all their time together, she didn’t want him constantly risking his life just for her sake. Despite his constant flirtations, she’d grown to love the cheeky boy for all his horrible jokes and heartfelt compliments, even if the delivery didn’t sound genuine. Deep down, at the bottom of her heart of gold, Marinette knew she felt something for him, too.

 

Marinette wasn’t quite sure what it was, but Chat looked especially handsome tonight. She knew her partner was rather good looking, but she didn’t let that get in the way of her duties. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It was just her luck that her partner was almost as attractive as Adrien.

 

His hair was neater than usual, but still had that rogue like messiness she associated with him. He had his hands crossed behind his back and was standing up straight, elegance that all seemed so uncharacteristic when it was Chat. No, she was pretty sure it was the fact that his sclera wasn’t green. She’d never imagined what he looked like without the coloured whites. Really, she’d never imagined who he could be, secret identity aside. Something about his electric green eyes intimidated her, struck something deep in her that reminded her of someone she knew and loved all too well.

 

Throughout the night, the two had shared many quips at the guests mannerisms, ranging from a subtle lifted finger in the suspect’s direction, or gasping for air as they tried to stop laughing so loud. And these were the the adults who told teenagers to grow up and stop overreacting, she had already reminded him. Marinette had found herself physically closer to Chat than she was an hour ago. She supposed it was that she’d edged closer and closer to playfully slap his arm at his remarks, and she didn’t bother moving back. Right now, she was situated so close to her other half that they were a mere shoulder bump away from touching.

 

“Oh!” Chat blurted out, before fumbling with his suit pockets. “I can’t believe I forgot!” forgot what, Marinette had absolutely no idea until the blond pulled out a little plastic box from the front trouser pocket. The poor lad was struggling so hard with getting his fingers under the tricky plastic folds, Marinette plucked it from his grasp and calmly undid it for him. Handing it back to him, he sighed out a defeated thanks as he pulled out the corsage. His movements were so mechanical; he slipped the box back into his pocket, before adjusting the corsage and lifting her hand. It took Chat a bit of precision to slide the black pearl band on, but when he was done, the time Marinette took to study the arrangement in depth was enough of an indication to how stunning it was.

 

The corsage was a delicate bundle of ruby red roses with tiny white blossoms, lush rose leaves and black ribbons sprouting this way and that. It was absolutely gorgeous, and she was overjoyed Chat had given it to her, despite his forgetfulness.

“My assistant told me to put it on as soon as I greeted you, but you’ll understand how busy I was.” Assistant….Marinette’s eye immediately darted to his breast with a curse. He wasn’t wearing a matching buttonhole, and through the dressing room chaos, she’d never heard anyone mention a buttonhole for her to give him.

 

“Don’t worry about it, my Lady! You’re the only rose I need.” So he’d noticed her panic, too.

“No, Chat, I cannot let this incident go without remedy.” Ladybug rushed over to the flowerpots, snapping off a peculiar rose that caught her eye before returning to the curious cat. It was just too bad she didn’t have any thread to weave the bud and leaves together.

“Here,” She started, fixing the singular rose to his buttonhole with a gentle pat, as if to finalise it. “The rose has a little black blemish, so we match.” She smiled, admiring her handiwork. While Marinette had been fixing the flower, Chat had been looking at her like she was a sacred being.

 

Truth be told, when she locked eyes with her partner, she felt her heart stop for just a moment. He was gazing at her like she was a legendary precious jewel, one he’d been trying to obtain for years and had finally set his eyes upon it. His eyes were shining with emotion, something she experienced so often. She wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the whole evening, but she couldn’t hide the tiniest urge to kiss him when he looked at her that way. Marinette smiled and laughed to herself as she dropped her head, patting his chest again to reassure herself. This was all so, _so_ silly, and she didn’t expect her heart to have a role that night.

 

  
“Mademoiselle?” She barely dared to lift her head as Chat called her, not wanting to see what new expression greeted her. She wasn’t sure if she could take anymore and stay true to her feelings. “May I have this dance?”

 

Well, she certainly hadn’t imagined Chat Noir asking her to dance with him. The boy stood infront of her, slightly bowed, one hand behind his back and his other held out for her. He winked his classic expression at her as she scanned his gracious pose, the two actions contradicting so harshly.

 

Marinette beamed her signature Ladybug smile, before placing her hand atop his to confirm her intentions. “Of course.”

 

Just her luck, Marinette had only the slightest idea how to dance. Chat seemed to have already picked up on that factor, as he was slowly mentoring her as he lead the dance. Chat taught her how to waltz, cha cha, foxtrot, and slow dance, even if she couldn’t tell which one apart. He was so gentle, never once scolding her as she stepped in the wrong direction or at the wrong time. She couldn’t tell how much time passed between her graduating from slow calculated steps to finding the rhythm herself and leading, but she didn’t want to find out. Soon enough, the pair got back to gossiping about anything and everything: the orchestra, the mayor, past akumatized civilians, all while twisting and twirling in synchronisation.

 

The two never took a break from their dancing. They turned and spun, waltzed and dipped in perfect harmony, laughing as the fresh air of the evening whipped their hair and made her corsage ribbons flutter. Marinette was absolutely giddy. She was elated with joy. She was high off endorphins, blood rushing to her ears and cheeks and lips and _everything_ , and she never wanted to hit the low. She couldn’t hear the music, she didn’t need to, when she could perfectly follow along with Chat.

 

Watching his shoulders loosen as his confidence in himself and his skills grew, Marinette could feel her heart pounding, over everything else she was feeling. He was a natural, smooth and well trained, and she didn’t find that arrogant at all. In fact, it was rather attractive. She didn’t exactly take Chat for the street cat person, but she didn’t really picture him as someone so punctual. She wanted the night with him, just him and no one else, to last forever.

 

Chat had just twirled her under his arm and dipped her, as she just noticed he was peering at her with those searching, _always searching_ jade eyes, before he pulled her up and held her close. He was out of breath, and she didn’t realise until they’d stopped that she also was.

 

“You know, my Lady, I find it rather intriguing that we aren’t transformed right now.” Chat purred, his masked face a breath away from her’s. Marinette knew, she kept reminding herself of it, she’d been repeating it in her head the entire evening. She’d always been so secretive about her identity, making sure she was cautious with every action she took regarding Ladybug. She knew Chat wouldn’t mind telling her, but she was sure she was the only exception. Who knows how his apparently pompous father would react. To be completely honest, Marinette didn’t really care who the boy was behind the mask. That night, she’d completely fallen in love with her partner.

“You know, kitty cat, I could kiss you right now.”

Except she didn’t, giggling as her Ladybug strength took him by surprise and let her spin him for another round. She was absolutely dying to kiss him- _hard_ , though. Rules be damned, identity be damned, Adrien be damned, in that split second she just wanted to rip that pesky thing off his face and push him against the balcony. She could feel the blush draining from her cheeks as the sadness in her laugh made its way to the surface. Marinette was certain Chat was laughing the same one.

 

Chat Noir instead took over control and twirled her faster and faster, exhilaration taking over in her mind. Oh no, she had probably just made him really angry. She was urging to remedy that, but he was just too quick on his feet for her to lead again. At least it kept her mind off her actions. _She was such a fool._

 

The boy kept spinning her around, a dedicated look on his face as he focused on nothing in particular, just before he glanced to her with his signature smirk and wink. Never missing a beat, Chat swiftly dipped her and held Marinette daringly close. She could feel his panting breaths, her heart pounding ridiculously fast, and the warmth radiating from their skin. Chat had the smallest grin tugging at his lips and stern, but desperate eyes. His expression was so intense as he asked her: 

“My Lady, do you mind if I-”

  
“Just what do you two think you’re doing?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this has been published at sagetetra.tumblr.com, my sideblog for fic updates n shit. 
> 
> we dont know if kwami can actually change the way the suit appears but idk it was fun to do it this way instead
> 
> next chapter will be up after christmas, hopefully before the new year!
> 
> Happy holidays!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir get ever so helpfully interrupted, right in the middle of some quality teammate (and more than that) bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote the majority of this during the morning while listening to the howls moving castle theme on repeat, please forgive anything and everything. i havent proof read it but i had to post it 
> 
> This probably reads better if you read it in the whole work format but!!! anyway

Marinette only strengthened her grip on Chat’s hip and shoulder as they both snapped their heads in the direction of the offender. Oh, great. Mr. Bourgeois just so happened to only bother to check up on them while they were in the middle of something. Marinette wanted to scream with fury. She knew exactly what Chat was going to ask, but she didn’t know if she wanted to initiate it or wait for him to take action.

 

Meanwhile, the mayor looked like he really was ready to burst with anger. His face was tomato red, and he was furiously huffing, searching for words. Chat somehow lifted her up smoothly, even though the duo were struck still with shock. Marinette fidgeted with her corsage and patted her skirt down, anything to avoid making eye contact with the furious man.

 

“I hire you,” The man fumed, authority rising in his voice, “To sit patiently and keep watch over, daresay, one of the most important events in the political year. I even let you two borrow such fine eveningwear! And here you are, making fools of yourselves on my balcony! Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

 

Marinette looked up to Chat in desperation. She had nothing to explain her actions. Only her idiotic heart making all the decisions for her. Chat was staring at the mayor, lips trying to speak, but nothing came to him either.

 

“Never mind. I don’t want to hear it. You’re both dismissed!” The older man forcefully pointed towards the open doors, back into the uninviting crowded ballroom. Chat looked to her, worry painting his face, and back to the the major before slinking away. What the mayor couldn’t see though, was the cheeky grin he couldn’t hide, as he held out his arm for Marinette hold. Chat wasted no time leading the pair through the cluttered hall. After spending the evening outside, Marinette found herself squinting as her eyes adjusted to how bright it really was.

 

Chat Noir had lead the pair up the stairs and back onto the landing they had first greeted each other that night, all those hours ago. Marinette sighed, and she could hear him doing the same. It wasn’t fair. Curse that damn mayor for ruining such a perfect moment. Curse Chat for winding her up like that. But Marinette only had herself to blame, she never intended the night to take such a turn. It wasn’t exactly his fault.

 

She shouldn’t have let herself get carried away, she’d already told herself not to earlier that night. She hadn’t taken any caution at all, really. No doubt countless ball goers had had their eyes glued to the superhero duo for the majority of the evening, watching their every move and making mental notes to gossip about later. Every touch, every interaction and every look between the two could be held against them later, and she knew it would come back to bite her. Marinette should have known better than to do….whatever the hell had just happened then.

 

How did she end up fiercely loving Chat Noir, and yearning to fiercely kiss him? Not once that night had she visibly deflated upon hearing his flirtatious compliments. Not once had she denied any of his advances. But why? Was it just the allure of the whole event, and how her childhood dream had actually come true. Just naturally, she’d been following in the footsteps of those plans she made as a little girl, dreaming of romance and grandeur. She’d worn a gorgeous dress, met a gorgeous boy, and danced with him on such a gorgeous evening, before having to run away for some reason or another. The only thing she hadn’t got right was stealing the kiss away.

 

She couldn’t turn back now. After this night, him and Marinette couldn’t simply return to the normal Ladybug and Chat Noir. She knew this would be all over the media tomorrow, and her best friend would be over the moon about this. But in that moment, she honestly couldn’t care less about some nosey snobs and obsessive fans. It was her night, and only her reputation that could be dragged in the dirt. Who else would save Paris from akuma attacks?

 

Marinette turned for the massive wooden doors, but Chat’s warm hand gripped her wrist tightly, with some feeling of urgency. His miraculous ring pushed into her skin harsher than she was comfortable with, the metal tingling with the ancient magic it beheld. Whatever Chat wanted, he certainly got her attention.  

 

“Ladybug, wait.” Chat croaked out. The poor boy looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes glassy as he focused on Marinette, with desperation fueling his motives. His eyes were shimmering so brilliantly.  “Will I see you again tonight?”

 

Marinette instantly felt her face morph into an expression of sadness, mixed with guilt and worry. He’d obviously enjoyed the night as much as she had, and they both knew their time spent together had crashed to a full stop so abruptly. _It wasn’t fair._  

 

“Chat….” Marinette started, but found herself having absolutely nothing to say. No words could convey how utterly destroyed she felt, no words could mend the emotional rift struck between the two. No words could say how truly guilt-ridden, how upset, and how sorry she was to and for Chat. It was _all her fault_. The hopeless girl realised her partner’s grip on her wrist had loosened, enough for her to shake her arm free. Fluidly, as if it was second nature, Marinette had both her hands reaching up, cupping the boy’s face, her eyes shut and her head tilted up to press her lips against his.

 

It was short, and it wasn’t all that sweet. He hadn’t the time to reciprocate before she pulled away, and she had no idea what had just overcome her right there and then. She only had the time to remember that his lips were just slightly firm and so warm against hers. In that moment, his mouth just looked so inviting. As she stepped back, she took in how his eyes were dilated with surprise, and his lips just barely tinted with her lipstick. She could feel a Ladybug-like triumphant smile tugging at her own lips, but she wouldn’t dare. Not now.

 

“I-I, Chat…” Marinette still couldn’t find any nouns or verbs or syllables to say what she wanted, but didn’t know how to say. Instead, she sombrely shook her head, before turning away and striding out the door, no confidence left to carry her shoulders with some sort of dignity.

 

“My Lady! Wait, please!” Chat was calling out to her, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t look back. For the second time that evening, she was speeding past antique frames and paintings, marching in the opposite direction, with opposite emotions filling her mind and spilling out. With tight fists Marinette pounded the elevator button, once, twice, and a third time impatiently. Only when the girl was stod inside the elevator having selected her floor, she let herself lean against the wall and crumble down to the ground. Her heart was in tatters, But she couldn’t cry. Not just because she would ruin her makeup. And not because she felt hopeless, or defeated. Because it wasn’t over, not just yet.

 

So what the mayor just happened to interrupt the two lovesick fools during their moment? It must have happened all the time, and just because she was Ladybug didn’t excuse her. It was absolutely devastating, but she was sure she could recover things with Chat. Her Ladybug luck just so happened to always work out that way.

 

Marinette lifted herself from the elevator floor with a groan, forgetting how heavy her dress really was. She’d felt like she spent the evening floating on cloud nine, and only when she flew too close to the sun and crashed down to earth, she realised how weary and exhausted she was. At the time, all her senses were overloaded with pure joy and adrenaline, she couldn’t possibly recount what exactly happened. She only remembered spinning endlessly with the boy, dancing like a wound-up ballerina within a jewelry box. Perhaps that’s exactly what the devilishly cheeky boy intended.

 

In between the gossiping and laughing, Marinette could only just recount a short lived discussion on their true identities. She confessed that she didn’t mind if he eventually figured out who she was behind the mask, even if it took him a couple of hints. Chat replied in his sweet mewl of a voice that he wanted her to figure out who he was, all by herself. She’d told him that she was confused he no longer wanted to just tell her, and to that he responded with a hearty laugh and quick overarm spin of the girl.

 

Agonising over unspoken desires and dreams could wait until tomorrow morning. She promised she’d see Chat again that night, even if she couldn’t convey that verbally. She couldn’t leave while the night was so young and she had threads to tie together, ones that had been so viciously cut with immaculately sharp blades.

 

Besides, she couldn’t just abscond into the glittering evening right then; that would mean running away in a crushingly heavy dress she technically stole. She could just transform into Ladybug and yo-yo out the window, but there was the problem with getting out of the dress...and she couldn’t keep avoiding Chat. She knew she was making up pathetic excuses now, even when she didn’t need them to pull, or guilt her into complete certainty. Right now, in that split second of fight or flight decision, Marinette decided she had work to do.

 

What work, Marinette wasn’t sure. It had already taken her Ladybug flexibility combined with her dressmaking knowledge to take off her dress, and that already sucked up fifteen minutes of her precious time. Between angry pants and noises of distaste while she took her dress off, she’d briefed her fellow kwami on the events of the evening, who then spent her time thereafter to pound her fairy fists on Marinette’s shoulders in fury. It just felt like fingers drumming on a thigh in boredom. Only now did the teen have the effort to properly survey her dressing room, and everything that it held.

 

It was decorated like the hallways of the hotel; paintings of Victorian-era ladies draped in complicated lace and tonnes of faultless satin, framed in regal gold frames. Aged mahogany wood dressers, bed frames and bookshelves backed more gold-plated designs, and artistic floral arrangements decorated every corner and flat surface of the room. Her vanity had been tip-top condition, the polished wood free of any aimless makeup powder or smeared creams. But by choosing to take in the beauty of her room, she’d lost what would probably be vital seconds.

 

The walk in robe Marinette took timid steps towards was another story. It was so marvelous and huge, it could have been a completely separate room on its own. The rails were filled to the brim with an entire spectrum of chiffon and tulle skirted dresses, baby smooth charmeuse and silk, and a clear night skies worth of gemstones and pearls glittering upon those dresses. An entire section of the wall was dedicated to scarily tall Italian leather heels, all encrusted with rare crystals and diamond (fake or genuine, Marinette couldn’t tell). She was sure deeper within the emporium of eveningwear there was a treasure trove full of ropes of pearls, studded earrings, platinum bangles and exquisite jewels. She hadn’t the time to delight herself by looking for it.

 

It took Marinette a thoughtful lap of the room while letting her fingers brush against the dresses to discover the dress she wanted. When she managed to unhook it from the rails, her heart fluttered with satisfaction and she exhaled in absolute relief. It was an overcast sky grey, sleeveless, and in regards to her previous dress, much more down to earth. Her skirt, vanilla statin she assumed, still had some volume, but it drifted behind her as she strode. The bodice of the dress was sheer grey with a loveheart backing panel and reached up to her neck, like her red suit, with symmetric lace-like designs beaded with silver gemstones that curved and grew over the top.

 

The girl quickly found a pair of silver heels with vine like details on the front, all lined with the same gems as her dress, and a pair of simple diamond studded earrings to match. She knew she really shouldn’t be doing this, but all the different dresses were right there and _just so tempting,_ her inner designer and little girl just couldn’t help it. the fashion world was her oyster, and she chose to grasp it and just admire it from a distance that night.

 

Despite there being a whole nook of the room dedicated to jewelry and headdresses, she couldn’t find a single mask. It was no big deal, any mask could probably make the similarities between her and Ladybug too obvious. It’s not like someone could spot her in a crowd and pinpoint her as Marinette, the girl who was known as a humble seamstress, and to a lesser extent, for having a massive crush on Adrien.

 

Adrien...she whispered it carefully, as she always did, like it was the most well protected secret in the world. Adrien; when she uttered that name to herself, she always kept her fingertips to her lips to keep that secret in, hidden under chains, locks and thrown away keys. Usually when she breathed that name to herself, she felt her heart sink in shame. She would never be worthy of his affections. She’d known it the second she’d seen that the mysterious model had transferred to her school. And yet, her stubborn, lovesick ambition wouldn’t let her fumbling feet come to a halt. She’d known it when he looked at Ladybug at the Eiffel tower _so lovingly_ , that those same eyes would never look at plain old Marinette that way.

 

When she remembered his name that night, and everything it meant to her, all the heartache and cringe worthy mistakes didn’t flood to her memory and make her regret ever existing. No, it was as if they’d simply washed away as new feelings for her teammate came crashing down instead. With a heavy heart, Marinette didn’t really mind admitting that the whole time, she was only just infatuated with Adrien. All that time wasted was spent hoping those eyes would just stare at her with longing, while Chat had been right there, patiently waiting, but always hoping. But she couldn’t give up on Adrien, not just yet. Her steadfast heart of hearts wouldn’t let her let go that easily. And _oh_ , did she long to find out who the boy was under that mask.

 

Something about those eyes struck something deep in her, echoing in her body until it reached breaking point. They were just so familiar, piercing jade eyes that made her breath hitch in her throat. She didn’t have the time to dwell on it.

 

Marinette couldn’t be bothered trying to pull all the little black pearl pins out of her hair, instead opting to cram white pearl and diamond pins in as well. She felt an out of place void in her stomach that could only be fulfilled by a mask; it was as if the thing made up her entire alter ego identity. _Oh, wait_ , right now she was Marinette. There were no silly cats around to trace her back to Ladybug. No silly cats to sheepishly hide behind a mask from.

 

 _Three times the charm_ , the girl reminded herself, as she paced the hallways as fast as she could, while still trying to remain punctual and dignified in the presence of the guests who were lopsidedly grumbling their way home. So, she was technically crashing the party. But hell, this was the only time she’d ever get to say that she’d done that, so why not take every opportunity she could? She was fully willing to go get her job done, until the sight of an all too familiar figure at the landing caused her to gasp to herself.

 

Just her luck that Adrien Agreste, the very model himself, would be leaning upon the railing back to her, lazy gracefulness in his stance that he pulled off so well. And she thought she’d let those feelings slink away unnoticed. No, no, they easily came back to haunt her yet again. His cool guy posture, formal suit and combed locks were too much for poor Marinette. She may as well try to say something to the only person she knew at the ball.

 

But just as Marinette stepped forward awkwardly, heels clacking on the polished stone, one hand raised in an almost-wave, her classmate turned around with his pretty face all surprised and shocked at the same time.

 

“Marinette! Finally, someone I know is here. Quick, before someone like Chloe tries to steal me away.” Just like that, in one swift movement, Adrien had taken her hand and was proceeding to escort her down the stairs. His father must have taught him all the ballroom etiquette he needed to get him through the night.  

 

“I hope you know how to dance.” He beamed and winked back to her, that one that always made her blush, as the two made their way through crowds of bystanders to the dance floor. Oh…. It suddenly clicked. He was going to dance with her. She hadn’t expected that, but she’d always imagined situations where it happened. All the flirtatious and witty lines she had memorised for this exact moment escaped her.

 

“O-Of course I do! It’d be a shame if I didn’t know how to dance, especially with such a handsome boy- I mean, hands on, as in well suited- oh, forget it.” Marinete hadn’t noticed her grip on the unfortunate boy’s hand had tightened as she tried to cover for herself, until he wriggled his hand free. He instead smiled, yet again, _she swore that boy was always smiling_ , as he guided her hand ever so slowly to his shoulder, and then picked up the other and held it out in front of their pair they formed. It was like clockwork, a series of actions he’d perfected by doing it for so long with well oiled joints.

 

It was….different, to say the least. Adrien always lead her in time to the music with the other couples, precise steps and gestures making Marinette think twice about how she danced along with him. Although she had an overwhelming desire to just take control and lead, she couldn’t let him think she was improper. But she was dying to dance faster and faster, spin Adrien around under her own arm, and dip him so she was the one towering over him, a winning smirk painting her face and giving her intentions away. Maybe later, in some other parallel dance party.

 

“So….Marinette, who taught you how to dance?” Ah, phew. She wouldn’t have to try and start conversation now.

“Just a friend of mine, you know!” she swallowed with effort. “Well, maybe you don’t know, not too many people know him.” Good work, Marinette, you sure know how to ramble on in the wrong place at the wrong time. Adrien gave her that look, the one he used when he was considering whatever tomfoolery her mouth spouted.

“Him, huh? Well, whoever this mysterious guy is, he certainly taught you well. You’re a natural.”

“Oh! Thanks! I could say the same thing to you.”

He chuckled while letting his head bow. “Thanks. My father had me take dancing lessons. Along with all the fencing and Chinese and- oh, you know that already. Sorry!”

“No, I don’t mind. It’s interesting to hear about you. Uh, It.” She knew her attempts at conversation were pathetic, but damned, if she wasn’t going to try.

“Thanks, Marinette.” The blond patted her waist where his hand guided their path,that little silver ring of his faintly pushing her side. The short lived gesture of gratitude sparked something inside of her. Oh, how she wished she could dance the night away with him.

 

The two continued the night, possibly early morning in their comfortable harmony, letting all the different forms of dance carry them through the evening as more guests filtered out. Each time the orchestra started playing a new song, Adrien expressed how impressed he was that she knew the perfect dance to suit the tempo. It made her float with pride whenever he did, and let herself relax more as her confidence took over. She was so used to the energetic whirls and laps with Chat, it was hard restraining herself to not jive and pull Adrien along.

 

While they passed the time dancing together pleasantly, Marinette found herself loosening up and letting herself talk almost as if it was Alya, or Chat she was dancing with. She spent less time thinking of what to say so she didn’t sound boring, and more on how much she didn’t know Adrien. He was conversing with her as if she was Nino, and letting her make inoffensive quips at his lifestyle. So far, Adrien had confessed to her that as a kid, he’d taken up martial arts, but quickly dropped it as he didn’t want to accidentally hurt someone. Late primary school time, he’d joined the swim club, but a fear of deep water reluctantly made his father pull him out. Although he’d been to plenty of social events his father threw or was obligated to go to, he’d never attended a masquerade party.

 

Adrien most certainly looked the part, though. She tried not to notice it, forget it and look past, but when that personal space bubble had been popped, she found her defences weakening and she couldn’t keep pulling her eyes away. All the reasons she loved him had come back to her, and no suave kitty could make her forget. Her heart would just have to make room for more soul-crushing, pitiful, and not to mention impossible crushes.

 

By his way of movement and knowledge on socialite events, no one could have guessed he’d never graced a ball with his presence. He was wearing a crimson red crossover tie, as if he was dressing to match her earlier outfit of the night. Unusual, but he pulled it off so well. His mask was plain and silver, similar to her previous one as well. On his suit collar he had a singular red rose buttonhole. Props to the lucky girl who was gifted the matching corsage. Of course Marinette didn’t feel jealous, she found herself continually telling her conscience. Jealously didn’t suit her.  

 

“Pr-Sorry, Marinette. Forgive me for not mentioning it earlier.” Not mentioning what? How he was only dancing with her as a defensive strategy, to avoid those pompous arses who pretended to know him, even though they only knew his name from billboards and his father? How he was only dancing with her because there was nobody else, and she was the last resort? No, no, stop it, Marinette. No need to immediately jump to the worst conclusion possible. That was a trait she was still trying to hurdle over...Was he about to call her princess?

“Yes?” He cleared his throat.

“Oh, boy.” Then he chuckled. Hurry up already, for god’s sake _please_. “You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

Oh. She hadn’t quite expected that, coming from Adrien. His compliments were sparse, but generous. Whenever he did though, she could feel her brain melting into a sappy puddle as she tried to comprehend what he just said. But somehow, she’d grown immune to Chat’s showering of praise. It was just the same cycle: She said or did something, he made a flirtatious remark, she rolled her eyes and moved on. She wished she paid more attention to him before. In her defense, he always picked the worst times to say it. An akuma attack was _not_ the time to womanise your fellow sidekick, despite popular belief.

 

“I know this sounds really sappy, “ Adrien was looking bashful, avoiding contact with her star-struck eyes, “But the grey of your dress brings out your heavenly blue eyes. You’re divine.”

 

She had no idea what to say to that. She couldn’t just disregard it like Ladybug would to Chat.

It was strange, and her heart was beating at a thousand miles per hour. How long had she been waiting for him to say that? Too long, but she hadn’t been keeping time. She’d always imagined him uttering that to her, on a date, in a dark alley, in the park. And she always scolded herself for having such an imaginative brain. She never let herself continue the scenario, knowing fully well that she’d tell Chat her civilian identity before that would even happen.

 

If she thought her earlier actions were risky, then those were a laughable understatement. Marinette wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it, but the next second her found herself burying her face into his shoulder, eyes scrunched shut. She was outright overwhelmed, emotionally strained, and only adrenaline kept her moving. She couldn’t sob just yet, though. She couldn’t keep living like this. Why had so much changed in just the span of a few hours? And why was it _always her_? It just wasn’t fair.

 

Much to her surprise, she found Adrien wrapping his arms around her securely, protectively, as if he was saving himself and her from the void her plummeting heart and self esteem had caused. It was so comfortable in his embrace; no shoulder or head pat could ever match up to this ever again. She let herself exhale all that pent up grief and anguish, feeling herself deflate in his arms.

 

Adrien, sensing this, planted a reassuring kiss to her head ever so gently. To that sensation, Marinette’s eyes opened in a flash, but she didn’t avert her gaze. His red buttonhole was what her gaze fell upon, the blossom probably as vibrant as her cheeks were. It was a rather peculiar buttonhole, too. It had no leaves, and it wasn’t the best flower of the bunch. She was surprised he was even given it to wear, seeing as it had a little blemish on an outer petal.

 

 _Wait a goddamn second_. A blemish. A single black spot on his rose. The absence of leaves. It couldn’t possibly be. Adrien wasn’t Chat. Chat wasn’t Adrien. And she was jumping to conclusions, yet again. It was just a pure coincidence, right?

 

 _Right_?

 

Cutting through the uncomfortable silence, Marinette decided she’d have to confront him about it. But that would put her in the spotlight if her accusations were false. She’d be caught red handed, literally.

 

“Adrien?”

The boy whispered out something under his breath, so only her and the silence could hear.

“My Lady.”

 

Did he know she was Ladybug? And just how long had he’d known? Was he just playing with her? Did he not understand the weight of that name to her? Did he spend the entire night fully well knowing that little Marinette is Ladybug, and he was just winding her up?

 

“How long have you known?” She breathed out, that dire question burning in her throat, begging for release. She figured the question was broad enough to be taken plenty of different ways.

 

“To be completely honest?” She locked eyes with him, desperation making her feel lesser, as she noted he looked so content. Lucky him. She didn’t dare croak a response out, only frowning and nodding her head furiously.

“As soon as you walked in. The second time, I mean. I figured, who else would show up to a ball at this time?” He laughed uncertainly. “I waited there, and I knew the first person to enter must be you. Good thing I was right.”  

“A-And what if you weren’t being honest?”

“I would have told you it was as soon as I kissed you just then. The black pearls in your hair...They don’t match your dress.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him, or kiss him, or turn around never speak to him again.

“Since when did you have such an eye for fashion?”

He just chuckled, and loosened his grip on her slightly. Not exactly answering her question, but she didn’t mind. She was over the moon. She felt so satisfied, so fulfilled. All the pieces fell into place, and it only took the ball to solve it all.

 

All this time. The boy that loved her Ladybug self was _the_ Adrien Agreste, the model and always kind classmate who was loved by her. The girl that spent so much time tirelessly loving Adrien was Ladybug. Who never accepted Chat Noir’s feelings for her, because she was too busy focusing on her classmate. And he had never looked at Marinette the way she did, because he spent his time thinking of Ladybug. It was so overly complicated, when it really didn’t need to be at all. She should have been able to figure it out so much sooner. But at the time, she really didn’t yearn to know who lived behind the mask.

 

Speaking of masks, Marinette thought, there was no need for Adrien to be wearing his. Reaching up and around his head, she carefully pulled the ribbon tie undone, grasped either side of the metal and lowered it. It really did nothing to change him, but the symbolic meaning was more than enough. So what, it was incredibly corny of her. He realised it too, and was beaming such a Chat Noir-esque grin. She couldn’t help her lips from parting just a little in awe. It was astounding, how truly alike Chat and Adrien were. She should have connected the dots sooner.

 

“You know, my Lady,” Adrien declared, the two already knowing what he was going to say. “I could kiss you right now.”

Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

She cupped his head forcefully, tilting her head and hungrily clashing their lips together. This time, he was fully well prepared to give back, and _oh_ , did he give back. He was just as desperate as she was, her fingers weaving themselves through his blond locks, keeping him as close to her as she could. She could tell they’d both been waiting so long for this exact moment, but never expecting it to be like this. He was kissing her so passionately, his firmer lips tugging at hers, she wasn’t sure she could keep up. She felt on fire, ethereal, like his lips were tethering her to the ground before she flew off, she was that jubilant. Warm, needy breaths on both of their behalfs did nothing to calm her senses- she was already hitched over her limit, and there was no falter to that progress any time soon.

 

Jinxing herself, Adrien pulled away, much to her verbal disapproval. He looked disheveled, already, and was having a hard time keeping his posh boy composure. Like she could talk, she was as red as her suit and probably looking just as messed up as he did. His lips were stained red, the second time that evening, and Marinette could feel pride rising in her chest. He was already trying to swallow up a cheshire grin at what he was going to say next.

 

“Shall we dance?” The girl gave him a quizzical look, before she cracked and broke out into laughter. Swiftly gripping his shoulder and hand, she twirled him once, before dipping him and keeping him held tightly to her. She couldn’t help but take a deep breath and lick her lips before uttering,

“I already have something better in mind.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god ive never written makeout scenes 
> 
> ps. vanilla satin is a type of fabric, not the colour of the skirt. i know how to dress this girl 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! all the lovely comments and kudos mean so much to me <3 <3
> 
> my side tumblr for posting fic updates is at sagetetra, I'll post this full work there too!  
> thanks again!


End file.
